It is now official. I am American. I still don’t feel like an American. But then again, I never really felt very Swedish either. Or Polish for that matter. Having Polish parents while living in Sweden has made me somewhat confused over where I really belong. I have always conveniently chosen to answer where I’m from depending on the situation. When someone made fun of Sweden, I was Polish. When someone teased me about being from Poland, I was Swedish. It worked out great, and sometimes I felt sorry for those poor kids with only one country of origin. How did they manage?
Now, I have yet another identity to delude my sense of patriotism.
The ceremony was pretty nice. It was me and 850 other people from 93 different countries who took the Oath of Citizenship at the same time. Pretty neat. The only thing I found somewhat ironic was when they played “Born in the USA” through the loudspeakers, before the ceremony, in an auditorium full of 850 foreigners just about to become neutralized naturalized.
We celebrated afterwards by eating out. I had ribs, coleslaw and a Budweiser, instantly feeling a lot more American.